


Not Friends: But Minions. But That's All He Has.

by Pyxel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Can We All Help Draco Cheer Up?, Draco is Sad, Gen, Sad Draco Malfoy, Snape Favors Slytherin House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28771152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyxel/pseuds/Pyxel
Summary: Draco Malfoy is sitting next to Harry Potter in Potions class, when Snape "accidentally" smashes a jar of Harry's potion ingredients. Don't ask Draco why helped Harry, he doesn't know. Maybe it was because he's lonely.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Severus Snape, Vincent Crabbe & Gregory Goyle & Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Not Friends: But Minions. But That's All He Has.

**Author's Note:**

> So... another fanfiction! I hope you all enjoy reading this! Please, feel free to leave a comment with any thoughts, comments, or constructive criticism!

Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good friends. They were good minions, certainly, but not friends. And if there was one thing Draco Malfoy wanted, it was friends. 

So when Professor Snape forced Harry Potter to sit next to Draco in Potions, Draco was delighted. Of course, he didn’t show it. No, his father wouldn’t want that. He really, definitely wouldn’t want that. The last time Draco displeased his father, it hadn’t been pretty. He had casually said that being a Gryffindor might not be terrible. His father had taught him a lesson he'd always remember that night.

Instead, Draco sneered at Potter. “Missing your friends, Scarhead?” 

Potter glared at Draco. “At least I have friends.” 

Snape loomed over the desk. “Cut the chatter, Potter, or I start removing points.” 

“But-” Potter let out an angry breath, and shoved his nose into his recipe book, looking an awful lot like his Mug- Mudblood friend. 

“There,” Snape said silkily. “It’s not that hard to hold your tongue, Potter.” Snape walked back to the front of the classroom. 

“Today we will see if any of you are apt enough to make a Babbling Beverage. Know this: with the exception of the student I choose to test your potions on, I will not tolerate anyone speaking nonsense in my classroom. The recipe is on page 85 of your Magical Draughts and Potions books.” Snape’s eyes swept the room, before landing on Potter. “Be very careful with your brews, students. We wouldn’t want our tester to perish.” 

Draco choked back a laugh at how obvious Snape’s choice was. Of course, Snape was close with Draco’s father, there was no way Snape would pick him, and everyone hated Harry Potter, everyone with a brain anyway, and picking Potter for a near-death experience was just smart.

Reassured, Draco set about to brewing his Babbling Beverage. Snape prowled through the rows of desks, complimenting the Slytherins and criticizing the Gryffindors. Right after Draco finished adding salamander blood, Snape swept over to them. 

"Potter, take note of how Malfoy measures his salamander blood. You could very well do with taking a lesson from him," Snape told Potter. 

As Snape moved on, his elbow caught Potter's jar of salamander blood and it smashed into the floor, shattering into little useless shards of glass. 

“Great,” Potter muttered as his salamander blood oozed into the floor. 

“Oops,” Snape said, in a voice that clearly told everyone it had been on purpose. “Well, then. I’m out of extra salamander blood, Potter. And I don’t know who’ll be willing to aid you.” A hissing noise came from the direction of the idiot Neville Longbottom and some Gryffindor friend of Potter’s, something Finnegan or something something. Draco didn’t really care. “Longbottom! Did you add salamander blood or syrup of hellebore?” 

Everyone, including Draco, fell silent and turned to watch as Longbottom looked at the bottle of the liquid he just added, fingers fumbling as they so often did. 

“E-er, it was s-syrup of h-hellebore, s-sir,” Longbottom stuttered. 

“I know, Longbottom,” Snape said icily. “That much is abundantly clear. Let’s see if you can remedy your mistake. Granger, move to sit next to Parkinson. Longbottom will receive no help.” Snape stalked back to Potter and Draco. “Figure out your salamander blood situation, Potter, or I shall fail you.” 

Potter glared at Snape until Snape swept away to harass more Gryffindors. 

"Yay," Potter mumbled. "What am I supposed to do now?" 

If you asked him later, Draco wouldn't tell you why he did it. Why he pushed his jar of salamander blood over to Potter. 

"I don't need your help," Potter hissed at him. 

"Who else is going to give you their salamander blood?" Draco hissed back. Potter glared at Draco before switching his gaze to the jar of salamander blood. Potter opened the jar, poured the required amount into his cauldron, then screwed the top on tightly and slid it back to Draco. 

"Ten points to Slytherin," Snape said from directly behind Potter and Draco. Draco started; he hadn't realized Snape was there. "For helping a fellow student." Snape walked away towards a struggling Longbottom. 

# ______________

The Hogwarts school library held over a thousand books, all having to do with magic. All of those books, literally at Draco’s fingertips, and he could not find the one he needed. 

"Come on," Draco mumbled. His head was starting to hurt as he searched, but his paper was due the next day, and McGonagall was not a forgiving professor. 

"Hey," a voice said from behind Draco. Draco looked behind him. Harry Potter was standing there. "Er… mind if I sit with you? I have a paper I need to finish, and you seem to have a lot of books." 

"Ah- sure, whatever, Scarhead," Draco said, aloof as he cleared away some books so Potter could sit. 

"Thanks," Potter said. They sat and worked together. Well, tried to work, Draco was only able to write one more sentence. 

"Ugh," Potter said. "Why can't McGonagall favor us like Snape favors you." Draco gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of a biased McGonagall. Then he realized-

"You're working on her Vanishing Spell Theory paper?" Draco asked. 

"Yeah, and it's stupid hard," Potter grumbled. "Why? Are you working on it, too?" 

"Yeah, I'm trying to find a specific book," Draco complained. "And I swear, it never existed in the first place!" 

Potter looked sympathetic. "I wish Hermione was here," he sighed. "She'd check over and finish this paper for me. But her Ancient Runes professor gave her a new book to read, and you know how she is about books." Draco nodded; Granger was always to be seen with at least one book on her. “What’s this book you need called?” 

“ _Ordinary Wizarding Levels Transfiguration Spellbook, Volume Six_ ,” Draco recited. “McGonagall told us it has a really good chapter on the Vanishing Spell.” 

“Hermione probably has it,” Potter commented. Then Potter sat up straight. “Hermione probably has it! Wait here, I’ll go grab it!” 

“Really?” Draco asked, surprised. “I thought you hated me.” 

“I thought you hated me, until you helped me in Potions,” Harry replied. “This is my way of saying thanks.” Harry leapt to his feet and ran off. 

“Potter!” Madam Pince screeched, striding across the library to harass Harry. “There is no running in my library! Ten points from Gryffindor!” Draco snorted with laughter and turned back to his paper with renewed vigor. 

# _______________

That night’s dinner felt to Draco like a feast. If he was not mistaken, Harry Potter was now Draco’s friend. People can be nice to you; you just have to be nice to them first. Maybe Hogwarts wasn’t horrible after all. 

_Draco._

Draco started as he heard his name, from somewhere far away. The wonderful Great Hall in front of him slowly began blurring. 

_Draco._

It was louder this time, and Draco looked around in confusion. What was it? Who was it? The Great Hall was fading away, the noises slowly getting further and further away as Draco sank into emptiness. 

# ________________

“Wow, looks like he’s having a good dream,” Zabini’s snarky voice came from somewhere beside Draco. 

Draco slowly became aware of the fact he was tangled in his sheets in the Slytherin fourth years’ boys’ dormitory. He raised his head slightly and cracked his eyes open. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake, Draco,” Zabini said carelessly. “We have Charms first thing today, and you know how Flitwick warned us not to be late again.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Draco mumbled, sleepily pulling himself upright into a sitting position. 

“Okay, well, I’m hungry,” Zabini announced. “I’m going up to the Great Hall. Might see you there.” With that, Zabini was gone. 

Draco looked to the door longingly. The only thing that hurt worse than the abrupt awakening was the realization his dream had been just that: a dream. His only friends were Crabbe and Goyle. Draco flopped back onto his bed with a sigh. No, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good friends. 


End file.
